Trent Evans

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Trent Evans Page 12

by What She's Looking For


  BRAT

  “Taking a chance with this shirt, aren’t you?” He just managed to keep his smile submerged. His little defiant Ashley. How he looked forward to taming that defiance, breaking it to his will.

  The back of the shirt read:

  AND PROUD OF IT

  She smiled again. “You said it was up to me. This is one of my favorites.”

  He held her chin in his hand, thumb stroking her cheek. “You know what brats get don’t you?”

  Shrugging, she snuck a glance up at him, the edges of her mouth curled up.

  “You were doing just fine,” he said, with a small negative movement of his head. “Lower your eyes, Ashley.”

  She did, the blush darker. “Why do you do this?”

  He stood silent a moment, considering. He’d never actually had a sub ask him that before. He wasn’t going to play her game though.

  “We’ll talk about that later. Right now just do what I say.”

  He could see the storm cross her features, a fleeting consternation, then the practiced neutrality she was so proficient at, returned. He longed to get at the Ashley such neutrality so jealously protected, longed to see everything exposed to him. The real her, not the playacting, defiant, woman.

  “So what’s the answer, Ashley? What do brats get?”

  Perfect white teeth nibbled at the corner of her lush lower lip. “I — I don’t know, Sir.”

  He grinned. “They usually get what they really want.”

  Parker moved back behind her, standing close to her so his hard length rubbed against her denim-clad ass, a testament to her effect on him. “Stretch your arms up over your head.”

  “What—”

  “Now, Ashley. Just do it.” He clasped her hip hard in his hand, his thumb digging into her right buttock.

  Grasping her shirt at her waist he pulled it slowly up her torso. He enjoyed the shiver that ran through her as his fingers played over her ribs, the swells of her breasts.

  Thank you, God.

  She wasn’t wearing a bra. “You’re in trouble for that shirt, but you’re a good girl for this,” he said, reaching his arm around her and bouncing one of the heavy globes in his palm.

  Ashley gasped, then moved to lower her arms.

  “No. Keep them up.”

  Parker was pleased to see her comply. Maybe this would be easier than he’d feared?

  Running his palms down the muscles of her back, both hands came to rest at the nip of her waist. He loved the softness of her flesh, the smoothness of her skin. He knew he could touch her all night and never tire of it.

  Cupping both of her denim clad cheeks in his hands, he squeezed them harshly, then leaned in, his lips tickling her ear as he spoke. “I love this. You look wonderful in these. Too bad we have to take them off.

  “We don’t have to, you know.” Her voice trembled almost as much as her body.

  “Oh yes, we do. Off, Ashley.” He released her cheeks from his grip, instantly missing the feel of her lush flesh in his hands. He’d remedy that as soon as she had those jeans off.

  Enjoying the sight of her trembling hands struggling with the buttons, he watched her wide hips move as she worked the tight jeans down. When she bent at the knee he stopped her, a firm grip on her waist again. “No, not like that. This is something I want you to remember. You bend at the waist when undressing in front of me. In front of any man. A woman’s body is meant to be appreciated. You’ll learn to display it properly.”

  “Parker—”

  In a low, measured voice he said: “Just do as you’re told, girl. I think you’re getting a spanking tonight anyway, so we’ll just add this to the total.”

  “Why? What did I do?”

  “You didn’t say ‘Sir’, remember Ashley?” He was glad she couldn’t see his smiling face.

  She shuddered, and moved the jeans to her knees.

  “Keep those legs straight, ankles together.” His hand tapped the outside of her strong thigh.

  Parker’s heated gaze took in the pleasant width of her hips, the generous buttocks enhanced by purple lacy boy-shorts. She knew how to dress to please, that was for sure. Almost as if she’d done this for another Master before.

  The thought made him angry, for it inevitably made him picture Terry with his brutish hands on her. Defiling her. The woman he was beginning to think of as his. He wished he could wipe away the stain of him, cleanse her of his touch. He grit his teeth.

  Her jeans were bunched at her ankles, and he held one of her hands for her as she extracted her feet from them. She straightened, obviously uncertain what to do with her hands.

  “Ashley?” He kept his voice quiet, even, despite the overwhelming urge to fall upon her voluptuous body like a pack of wolves.

  “Yes … Sir?”

  He smiled. “Good catch, girl.”

  Easing a hand over the lace clad curve of her left buttock, his fingertips slipped under the delicate fabric to test the soft flesh. “This is something else you need to remember. When you bend for me, you stay bent until I give you further direction. I may want to look at that big bottom of yours.”

  She inhaled sharply, her head twitching to the side, as if she wanted to look back at him, but thought otherwise.

  “Yes, Sir,” she said, her gritted teeth unmistakable in her tone.

  “Put your hands behind your back.”

  Grabbing her wrist in his hand, he pulled a pair of handcuffs from his pocket. She jumped as he clapped her wrist in the steel.

  He didn’t normally use cuffs, as they were more apt to hurt a girl’s delicate wrists, but he wanted her to feel the bite of them tonight. He’d guessed —probably correctly, judging from her reaction — that she’d never felt the cold harshness of handcuffs before. Good.

  “Relax, Ashley,” he whispered, clapping her other wrist in the cuffs. He noted the desperate tension in her hands, her fingers laced so tightly together, the flesh was white. “I won’t hurt you.”

  “You saying a spanking won’t hurt?”

  He shook his head with a quiet laugh. “What would be the point if it didn’t? You know that’s not what I mean, girl.”

  She blew out a breath, a gesture that would get her in deeper trouble once she was better trained. But at that point, he felt it better to let it go. He was pushing her pretty hard already.

  “I don’t want you to spank me, Parker — Sir. Please.” Her voice was almost a whisper.

  He held her cuffed wrists in one hand, yanking down the boy shorts with the other, leaving them bunched just below the curve of her cheeks. His fingers slipped between her legs, gliding through her slick labia. He brought the moist digits to his nose, his inhalation of her scent exaggerated for her benefit.

  “Your pussy says otherwise, Ashley. It doesn’t lie.”

  He licked her from his fingers, savoring her taste. Wonderful.

  She surprised him when she tried to move, her fingers twisting in his hand. He gripped her shoulder tightly with his free hand, his thumb stroking her.

  “It’s okay, girl. Calm down now.” He laid a kiss at the base of her neck, the smell of her hair all around him. “Nothing to be scared of. Just a little spanking, then we talk some more.”

  “Parker — Sir.”

  “What is it, Ashley?” He lay his head against the side of hers, his eyes looking down, enjoying the heaving of her breasts as she took deep breaths. She was getting more agitated by the minute, a new urgency creeping into her voice.

  “I — I don’t think I can do this. I mean, I want … you. Not — I don’t know if I can do it again.”

  “Did he spank you, Ashley?”

  “A few times, Sir,” she said, the tension in her body ratcheting up by the second, the contradictory counterpoint to her hard, rose nipples and the scent of her arousal filling the room.

  “Did you like it? Be honest with me.”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t want to like it.”

  “But you did, didn’t you, girl?”

>   She tried to twist out of his grasp again, and he gripped her harder, stilling her. “Answer me, Ashley. I need to know.”

  “No … I don’t know.” Her head dropped. “Yes, part of me did. Please you’re hurting me, Sir.”

  Parker relaxed his grip, slightly. “Then don’t move. You aren’t going anywhere for a while. You’re safe here with me. Just breathe, girl.”

  He released her shoulder, wincing at the marks his fingers left on her flesh. She’d be bruised tomorrow. He laid his hand along her neck, her pulse pounding against his palm, stroking her tender flesh.

  She let a whimper escape her lips, then shook her head. “I’m sorry, Sir. It — it reminded me of something.”

  “Something that he did?” He was disgusted with himself. The last thing he wanted to do was to bring something back from her past.

  You fucking asshole.

  She nodded, nuzzling her jaw against his hand.

  He leaned closer and kissed her ear. “I’m not him, remember Ashley? Never.”

  “I know, Sir. I’m sorry. I’m trying.” He was pleased to feel her relax somewhat.

  “I know you are, girl.” His buried his nose in the silky weight of her hair. The smell was so good, he didn’t want to stop.

  “Does this mean we can skip my spanking for now?”

  He chuckled at the hopeful tone in her voice. “No, it doesn’t.”

  “Don’t worry though.” He felt her body tense again. “It won’t take long.”

  Parker wanted nothing more than to take her over his knee and do what he’d wanted to do since the first day he’d met her. But he needed to know something else.

  Holding her by her hip, he pulled the shorts the rest of the way down her smooth legs. He steadied her as she stepped out of them.

  Grabbing one of the throw pillows, he laid it on the floor in front of her couch. “Kneel there.”

  Big, hazel eyes looked up at him. He stared back, one hand on her upper arm, ready to help her kneel. She stalled a moment, then obeyed. The sway of her heavy breasts as she moved almost undid him right there. She was so beautiful.

  Once in place, her face downcast, thighs tight together as if she could hide her charms, he sat on the couch in front of her. He reclined back, his arms along the top of the couch, demonstrating his ease. His control.

  Parker wanted to tell her how delectable she looked. The thick loveliness of her dark hair framing her flushed face, her broad bottom posed on her delicate feet. The gentle swell of her belly leading down to the strong mons between the lush thighs. He couldn’t think of anything else, but being between those thighs, claiming, conquering.

  His.

  “Do you have something you want to tell me?”

  She looked up, her sparkling eyes bright under expressive brows. “I — I don’t know.”

  “Don’t you?” He sat forward, his fingers laced between his thighs. “Tell me.”

  Looking away, she shook her head. He could see the flex of her shoulders, testing the cuffs. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “You want to be submissive, but not really submit. Is that it, Ashley?” He scowled at her, hoping his gambit would work.

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Her eyes flashed, points of color rising at each cheekbone. She was really quite lovely when she was angry.

  “What did he do to you, girl? What scared you?” He reached out and ran a finger along her cheek.

  She glanced down, then met his gaze. “Parker, I can’t. I really … can’t.”

  He sat back again, sighing. “I don’t believe you, Ashley. You allowed me to strip you, cuff you. You’ve done almost everything I’ve asked. You can do this, yet you still hold something back.”

  “Parker, please … “

  “No. I know you can,” he said, pointing at her. “But it’s too soon. It’s not too soon to give you what you want though. What we both want. Before we do though, there’s something I want you to say.”

  He wasn’t sure he wanted this, a way out. Something between them. But until she could tell him, he had no choice.

  Her eyes were round, tear-bright, lower lip trembling ever so slightly. Her thighs shook a little at the strain of the position. Such a body. His hands twitched to feel her flesh, the throbbing of his hard cock insistent.

  “I’m going to spank you, Ashley. As long and as hard as I want to. Do you understand?”

  She nodded, biting her lip.

  “If it gets too painful, or you need to stop, you say Terry.” He noted the flinch at his use of the name. It would work just fine. “If you say that, everything stops. I go home; you go to bed.”

  “I don’t want that. I can take it.”

  “No. I’m not giving you a choice here.”

  She grimaced, her brows knit together. Finally, she nodded.

  He couldn’t tell her that he couldn’t bear the thought of dredging up some horror from her past, in the midst of his ignorance of what had been done to her. Until she truly surrendered, truly let go, it would have to do. The last thing he wanted her thinking about was another man while she was with him. He wanted her mind, her emotions, and her cunt concentrated solely on him. He expected nothing less.

  “Now. Stand up and come over here. It’s time for your spanking, girl.” He reached out his hand to her.

  Ashley rose, stumbling a little without the use of her hands.

  “We’ll work on that,” he murmured.

  She walked to him and he clasped her hip, enjoying the momentary vision of her plump mons just inches from his face. He inhaled her scent, and looked up at her, grinning. “At least part of you is looking forward to this.”

  Her lips twisted in dismay, as she looked away. He very much enjoyed discomfiting her. He’d have to be careful lest he get carried away with it, though. Patience would pay off, in the long run. Hopefully, there would be time enough in the future to explore it to the extent he preferred.

  He grasped her upper arm in his hand, his other reaching across her bottom to clasp her far hip. He luxuriated in the soft, vulnerable flesh of her bottom against his forearm. His cock jumped painfully in the constriction of his clothing.

  Guiding her down across his lap, he positioned her with her head well down, but balanced across his thighs to prevent her from tumbling forward. He tucked her hips against his, making sure she could feel what this was doing to him.

  She murmured, writhing her hips against his aching cock, and he bit back a groan.

  “Stop that,” he said, clasping the base of a plump buttock in his hand. “Time enough for that later. You stay still for this.”

  Clasping her hands together in her cuffs, she obeyed.

  Her body was a spanker’s dream. Her broad bottom was made for his hand, his paddle, his cane. It was gorgeous. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to get through this without coming in his pants like a schoolboy.

  Into every life, a little rain must fall, Parker.

  Ashley flinched when instead of smacking her, his hand smoothed over the broad expanse of her bottom, squeezing, and kneading the ample flesh. He tested her with a pinch to the underside of her far buttock, and she tensed. She was sensitive indeed.

  “You haven’t had this done in a while have you, hmm?”

  She shook her head.

  “What?”

  “No, Sir,” she whispered.

  He could picture the look of embarrassment on that lovely face, and wished he could see it. Next time, mirrors. His hands smoothed over the pleasing curves of her hips, down the backs of the thighs. He tickled the sensitive flesh behind a knee and she crossed her legs.

  “No. Don’t cross,” he said, tapping the alabaster flesh of her thigh. “Keep them together though.”

  She reluctantly complied, and he made her wait a moment more. Raising his hand, noting the tensing of her body, he brought it down in a firm smack, her cheek wobbling at the blow. She jerked, but stayed quiet, the outline of his hand pinkening on her soft, trembling flesh.


  “Finally,” he murmured, and raised his hand again.

  ***

  Chapter Thirteen

  Parker’s hand came down again, and she bit back a groan. He spanked hard!

  Though she knew it would absolutely infuriate Parker, she couldn’t help but compare it to the few times Terry had done it. Parker’s hand made those feel like love taps.

  Another blow landed, the heat of her ass rising with each smack.

  “Oww, Parker — Sir! Not so hard, please!”

  The rumble of his amusement both pissed her off and made her cunt spasm. It wasn’t fair.

  His smacks continued, the pace picking up, his big hand alternating between cheeks. Her soft flesh felt utterly defenseless against that very hard hand. She couldn’t believe it hurt that much, and he’d just gotten started.

  His hand landed at the junction of her thigh and bottom, and she yelped with the burn. He spanked her again in the exact same spot, the pain spiraling higher. She twisted her hips as his hand raised once more.

  “Stop moving, Ashley.” Fresh fire bloomed again as his hand came down on the other cheek, again at that tender junction. She knew it was called the ‘sit spot’, but she hated the term with a vengeance. It just sounded so … childish, to her.

  The blows stopped, and he pulled her hips tighter against him. She could feel the hard erection against her hip, and she wished she could feel its bare heat against her flesh, rather than through the fabric of his jeans. Still it wouldn’t quite seem right, her being spanked while he was nude (her fantasies were very specific on that particular point).

  She sighed with relief — and anticipation — as his hand smoothed over the hot skin of her spanked ass.

  “So red already, girl. Your skin is so pale, I can see every single hand print.”

  She squirmed again, kicking her legs. He caught them, pinning them down with his right leg. She had no way of fighting him now. As if to reinforce that fact, his fingers slipped between her thighs, testing the wetness of her sex. She gasped as he slipped a long digit deep into her, his knowing touch stroking exactly where he knew she loved it most.

 

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